


Daddy Andrea

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Anal Play, BDSM, Daddy Andrea, Daddy Kink, Dom Andrea Rojas, Evil Andrea, F/F, Humiliation, Lesbian DDLG, Lesbian Sex, Minor Kara Danvers/Cat Grant, Nipple Play, Office Sex, Strap-Ons, Submissive Lena Luthor, lesbian bdsm, strap-on sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:36:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Prompt fill: Andrea makes Lena beg to go down on her during a conference call after Lena has been naughty, and then afterwards Andrea makes Lena ride a big strap. Orgasm for both (But make Lena suffer). Pain play, Nipple biting (for both Andrea and Lena), anal, size kink, humiliation, Daddy Kink. Just as many hot kinks that can be crammed into filthy office sex. Genital slapping, spanking, praise kink. Oh deep throating while Andrea makes her grind on the tip of her stiletto…
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Cat Grant, Kara Danvers/Cat Grant, Lena Luthor & Andrea Rojas, Lena Luthor/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 7
Kudos: 159





	Daddy Andrea

_Daddy._ For such a small word, it really is such a big word.

It was a threat Andrea sometimes whispered between her teeth. A plea for mercy that Lena purled from pink puffing cheeks when her cunt couldn’t take anymore. A pet name, an omen, a comfort blanket and a loaded gun. It was a thousand things, and still nothing descriptive enough to encapsulate Andrea in a bad mood.

“It would be easier if I had a reason why I was punishing you...” Andrea said calmly, detached and entirely blank behind the eyes as she generously poured a stiff drink from the decanter on the desk. “If you were wondering, if you were curious, you haven’t done a single thing wrong baby.” Andrea’s lips pushed at the corners as she sipped.

Lena couldn’t reply. Her wrists were handcuffed behind the column of the chair, thighs and ankles restrained wide so her cunt was straining and on display. Andrea had left her high heels on, allowed the torn silk blouse to remain too, the panties however had been stuffed inside Lena’s protesting mouth and duct taped shut. Sobs muffled, growls stifled, the redder Lena grew, the more intense Andrea stared down like the cat who had caught the cream.

Slowly, Andrea wiped a rolling tear from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. 

“You’re still my good girl, Lena,” Andrea whispered, head craning to stare Lena right in the eyes. “I just really, really like it when you cry. Some would call it a power complex, I’d say it’s just me admiring a hideous puffy face that only a Daddy could love.” The slap damn near knocked the taste out of Lena’s mouth.

In the high rise office, the lights were all on, the blinds open, the city beneath gridlocked with rush-hour traffic. Lena couldn’t remember if she locked the door on her way inside, and that became the least of her problems where modesty was concerned. Andrea grabbed the back of the office chair and pushed it around the open-plan office by its creaking wheels.

“Look at them down there, scattering out to the suburbs like cockroaches,” Andrea whispered against the back of Lena’s thrashing head. “Honey, no, just—stop. It’s mind over matter...” Lena winced as a fist caught and wrapped her sleek ponytail, forcing her head still. “I don’t mind and you don’t matter,” Andrea exhaled.

Lena opened her eyes after a moment, obeying despite herself. She stared down, unsure if anyone was staring up, gleaning her exposed body, ogling her straining, spread-open thighs. It was terrifying, and it was exhilarating, and those feelings compounded and swirled into a helpless kind of arousal.

She imagined the small crowd below that her slick puffy cunt was drawing. The man inside his kitchen in the highrise across who glances out the window just in time to see Andrea slip her hands inside the torn blouse to pinch two pink nipples... and then decides fuck it let the risotto burn, he can always order delivery instead.

“Are you really crying yet?” Andrea asked from behind, drawing her back from the edges of her imagination, twisting and pinching at the two pink areolas at her fingers. “You will be by the time I’m finished with you, little girl.”

“Daddy—” Lena barely muffled through the panties stuffed in her mouth, certain someone outside was staring in. “Mercy!” She felt guilty for growling out that distinct word, but her shame was short lived.

Andrea grabbed the back of the seat and sent Lena across the office away from the windows with one hard push. The office span, swivelled, and then slowly twirled to a still, and when Andrea came back in to view as the seat rotated, the mere sight of her got Lena’s cunt worked up and throbbing.

She had that smouldering, determined look in her eyes. The one that was reserved for battlegrounds masquerading as boardrooms, the one that was reserved for moments when her arousal was hateful and too big for her body to contain. It was palpable, petulant, nasty and wonderful. Lena drew a hard fast breath through her nose and wanted to be the thing that absolved her of it all.

Somehow, Andrea was still pristine and immaculate. Her stockings without a single ladder despite the earlier wrangle, black dress clutching every curve, her heels slowly clicking across the marble like death riding a big high horse. She removed her diamond drop-earrings with slender manicured fingers, then the Cartier bracelet, as though she were getting ready for a knock-down fight, and just like that she became Daddy in all the ways that mattered. 

The dress was unzipped and stepped out of with a slow fluid motion like a snake shedding its skin. Lena stared in a suspended state of disbelief, as though she were watching a magic trick, one that ended with Andrea looming over her in lingerie, suspenders, and tightly-fisted hands that were just begging for soft flesh to take it out on.

“Well would you look at that...” Andrea whispered, her furious narrowed stare widening with titillation and amusement.

Andrea pressed the flat of her heel into the puffy slick cunt straining up towards her, the seat glided a short half-metre into the meeting table with a dull thud, and then there was nowhere left for Lena to run. Thank god, Lena thought to herself as the pressure became acute, as her throbbing cunt instinctively grinded against the flat of the wavemaker’s shoe. _Thank god_.

The realisation that she was sobbing hit her all at once and completely out of left field. That was what had halted Andrea in her tracks. The thick, hiccuping, red-faced tears streaming down her cheeks like a burst river bank. There was no pity. Andrea simply stared and breathed, pressing her foot deeper and harder against the twitching little cunt beneath her shoe as though the effort it took to flex her hamstring was a reward in and of itself.

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to gag to death on those pretty tears,” Andrea mused to herself as she ripped the duct tape clean off Lena’s mouth. “At least not on corporate property… the insurance premium would sky-rocket.” Her eyebrows wiggled.

“Thank you Daddy,” Lena barely hiccuped the words out.

“Rewards can quickly turn into punishments, don’t give me a reason to stuff that pretty little mouth of yours with something far less forgiving than your dirty underwear.” Andrea pinged the soaked panties across the office. “And don’t you dare stop crying, not for a second, not for a single fucking breath.” She craned down with a serious glare.

“I’ll keep crying the way you like Daddy,” Lena promised with a tearful nod, completely drunk and consumed by her own arousal.

“I’ll give you inspiration, little girl, don’t you worry about that.” Andrea swiped the hot wet tears off her cheeks like a thief in the night.

Lena watched her lift her glistening fingers for closer inspection, grinning and pleased with her spoils. When Andrea slipped her tear-soaked manicure inside her own panties, stroked and touched herself as though it were lube, Lena understood precisely why it was so important she carried on crying.

A groan rumbled through Andrea’s chest like a faraway thunder, her eyebrows knitting as she touched herself softly, gently, spoiling herself with swipes of thick tears. 

The way her silky chocolate hair fell and framed her face, then the tiny way she tucked it behind her ear and craned her neck, the top of her lip pulling into the tiniest of snarls, Lena watched as though she were an outsider peering in, entranced and enthralled.

“You’re just a fucking cheap thrill, baby,” Andrea chuckled to herself, as though she were a mindreader. “I’m the only thing that makes you interesting, I confer meaning, and without me…” She stared wickedly, cheeks flushed and brows up. “You’re absolutely nothing.” Andrea shook her head severely.

“Yes Daddy,” Lena exhaled instantly, her cunt hot and throbbing with the dressing down. “Please… can I be good for you?” She glanced down at Andrea’s soaked panties.

“If you want to be good, then beg.”

“Please Daddy,” Lena exhaled quietly and closed her eyes. “Please let me go down on you—” A slap sent the sentence back into her throat with a hard gasp.

“Beg like you fucking mean it,” Andrea growled. “Or maybe I’ll invite another pretty girl over… younger, softer, certainly less of an ego than you.” The big boss dug her foot deeper into Lena’s slick folds. “And you can just sit there and watch.”

“Please Daddy!” Lena burst and winced as her clit suffered beneath the ball of her foot. “I want to taste you, I want to lick you clean. I want… I want to give you my big pretty tears where you want them, Daddy,” Lena exhaled with a gasp.

“You do?” Andrea piqued as though still contemplating, but her panties were being pulled down and kicked off her ankles, her foot moving from Lena’s cunt to the arm of the chair where she propped herself for leverage. “Well, if you do a good job then maybe I might keep you around after all…” Andrea pushed her wet cunt forward into Lena’s face.

Lena had imagined she might be untied and allowed off her seat. To Andrea, that was simply out of the question. In this position Lena couldn’t breathe, only suck and lick and please the musky swollen cunt resting over her nose and mouth.

The slim hopes that the shuddering hips would leverage in such a way that she might gasp a breath grew slimmer. Ten seconds, fifteen, twenty, Andrea made her wait, her long manicured fingers dragging through Lena’s hair as the little one started to turn pink, thrashing and airless between her thick soft hips.

“Catch your breath,” Andrea pulled her hips away, voice filled with disinterest. “Quickly, hurry up, get those fucking lungs working!” She pressed her dripping cunt back against Lena’s mouth half-way through a hard gulp of air. “There we go pretty girl, you can breathe again after I’ve came...”

The phone rang and startled them both. It wasn’t one of their cellphones buzzing. It was a foreign VOIP tone, the kind with a dull ominous ring. It wasn’t coming from the receptionist’s desk phone outside. Instead, it was from the direct line inside Andrea’s office. Whoever was calling, it was someone important with a no-doubt urgent matter to hand. 

Andrea pulled away from Lena’s sloppy mouth and walked idly to her desk. The ability to breathe came in a rush that filled Lena’s chest with empty air that her body didn’t know what to do with. Her head was spinning, lungs gasping and clenching, and despite all of this, she couldn’t tear her watering eyes away from Andrea’s perfect thick hips for a single moment. She hated to see her leave, but god she loved to watch Daddy walk away.

“If you make a single sound,” Andrea stared darkly over her shoulder in warning, hand hovering over the receiver. She turned back and picked up the phone. “Andrea speaking, hello?” She clicked the conference function.

“Andrea it’s me.” A frustrated voice filled the room. “You didn’t get back to me this morning regarding the matter of Obsidian North’s _sizeable_ donation to my political action committee fund. I’m on a flight to a rally in Shitsville, Nowhere as we speak and I could really use some good news…” Cat Grant’s voice tilted upwards hopefully from the speaker.

“Well Cat, Obsidian North still has some reservations about your policies.” Andrea worded it carefully, speaking in the first person yet hiding behind corporate entity for pleasantries sake.

The presidential hopeful sighed grumpily. “I would love to hear all about _Obsidian North’s_ unabridged reservations…”

Andrea paused and hovered above Lena’s silent, restrained, spread open figure. She smirked down like a little god of war, cheeks flushed, blowing a piece of glossy brunette hair out of her dark eyes as she slipped a hand down her own neatly trimmed pubic hair and rubbed her clit. Lena couldn’t fathom it, how she could be so collected, so undone, all at once. 

When her hand slipped over Lena’s mouth to stifle any noise, fingers coated with her own wetness before slipping between Lena’s thighs to stroke her ribbon-soft clit, that was when the big boss sighed calmly and got back to business.

“Well your positions on net neutrality and data protection are at the top of the list,” Andrea said towards the speaker, her mind and body handling two separate problems with utter equanimity.

Lena puffed against the palm over her mouth, tear-soaked eyes squinting hard, bucking into the two fingers stroking gently through her cunt lips. Her wrists were throbbing and sore against the rope, her ankles blood-deprived from the constant tugging. She stared up at Andrea, really stared, as though it were the only way she could communicate her desperation. Andrea just grinned at the helpless expression.

“Don’t worry,” Andrea whispered with lips smearing the temple, voice hushing into the skin. “You’ll get a rude awakening too baby, all in good time, Daddy just has to prioritise...”

“Isn’t it in everyone’s best interest that the public have access to a free and open internet?” Cat posited sternly.

“Obsidian North isn’t everyone, and analysing superficial personal data is how we deliver the products our consumers— _and stakeholders_ —love to see hit the shelves every November.” Andrea trotted out the polite smoothed-over spiel. “You understand the problem therein, Cat. I’m sure.”

“I’m a Democrat candidate. You didn’t forget that, right?”

“No, no I didn’t forget at all. Here at Obsidian North, we love your social and foreign policy. It’s merely the aforementioned that’s concerning.”

“The protecting people’s privacy stuff?”

“Precisely that. We’re on the same page—” Lena felt every muscle strain desperately as the conversation droned on without her, all while she peered with frantic eyes, a complete hostage to it. “Radical-left candidates are like silent vicious farts, Cat. They make a big wave, but even the best rarely follow-through.” Andrea smirked.

“I would hardly describe myself as either a radical-left candidate or a silent vicious fart, Andrea.”

“Neither of us have the spare minutes in the day to indulge in pedanticism so let me cut to the point,” Andrea sighed at the conference phone and pressed her thumb into Lena’s clit harder, swirling, rubbing, catching the throaty groans into her pressed palm. “You have a great track record campaigning for alien refugee rights, that’s the hot button issue for the left today. That’s where you should focus your energy. That’s where your electoral votes rest.”

“I’m pretty sure the protestors who burned down three Obsidian North server facilities last month alone would care to disagree.”

“Not protestors,” Andrea corrected, her thumb working harder with frustration, hand tightening on the slender porcelain jaw suffering under her grasp. “Rioters. Antifa radicals. Hell, political crisis actors hired by our competitors.” Her expression screwed tight at the conference phone.

“Crisis actors? Next you’ll tell me vaccines cause autism.” Cat scoffed. “Please, Andrea, you sound like a middle-aged man whose just discovered InfoWars. Let’s at least try and base ourselves in fact...”

Lena watched Andrea’s stare darken, watched her brow furrow and the veins bulge in her temples. Andrea licked her lips and smirked slightly, as though the joke was on Cat, and what made it all the funnier was that Cat was the only one who couldn’t see it.

“Perhaps you’re right. I’m not in the business of fact, after all. I’m in the business of augmented reality and trust me when I say, business is _booming_.” Andrea pushed two fingers deep inside Lena’s cunt as though it were a little stress toy to occupy herself with. “May I be completely blunt?” Andrea asked calmly.

“I’d appreciate it all the more if you were.”

“You want to base yourself in fact, Catherine? I’ll let you in on the only fact you need to concern yourself with,” Andrea’s voice dropped to a stern, manacled tone. “The average household owns at least three Obsidian North products. We own TimeWarner, Fox News, and in case you forgot, CatCo media holdings too. I decide the pressing political issues. I decide how the public are fed it. I decide the whole narrative. And who wins the election, Cat, is utterly fucking inconsequential — because I decide that too.” Andrea tore back the veil of reality with a deep hiss.

The conference speaker crackled with static in absence of a response for what felt like an eternity. Lena felt repulsed, abhorred, witness to the kind of backroom political arm-twisting she never engaged with and yet privately understood Andrea was expert in. 

Most of all, she felt excruciatingly turned on despite her conscience. Daddy smirked down at her, eyes alight with disregard, fingers slipping inside her dripping cunt so perfectly it made the goody two-shoes mumble sobs into the hand wrapped over her mouth.

“You think I care what you think?” Andrea whispered against Lena’s ear. “I’m a big fucking storm and you should be grateful I’m not blowing your way… _yet_.” She slapped her cunt lips and caught the pained little cry in her other hand.

“Andrea?” Cat finally cleared her throat.

“Ah, I was worried we might have got cut off!” The big boss breezed with a polite laugh as though she hadn’t just shown true face. “Do you need me to repeat anything?”

“No no, you were very clear. Crystal in fact.”

“Good, good.” Andrea fixed an empty expression. “So, would you like my political backing? Your opponent has already expressed support in protecting our corporate interest — we annually contribute over ten-thousand jobs to the economy after all. That’s a great USP for his campaign. It could be a great one for yours too...” Andrea suggested.

“And net neutrality is the only point of concern _Obsidian North_ has concerning policy?” Cat clarified. “Or should I just go ahead and name them as my running mate? Hell maybe you could give the state of the union address in January while we’re at it?”

“Don’t worry yourself for nothing.” Andrea smoothed her fingers over Lena’s pinkened cheek. Out of nowhere, Andrea propped her foot on the arm rest and pressed her hips forward into Lena’s hung mouth again. “I don’t have the hours in the day to run Capitol Hill via proxy, Cat. That isn’t what this is. You do your job, I do my job, all we’re doing is preventing any future conflicts of interest. Alien refugee rights really do sound more compelling anyway, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cat agreed mutely. “I guess they do.”

Lena didn’t offer any oral service, her face desperately tried to twist away as her mouth and chin was smeared with Andrea’s wetness. She couldn’t, not while this was happening, not while she was held hostage to the kind of conversations that would have QAnon exercising their second amendment.

Andrea pressed her cunt forward into tight crimson lips, gently coaxing Lena’s clenching mouth to obey with little rolling motions of her hips. When that failed, the deep hard bite of clamps to Lena’s nipples made her mouth wretch open. Andrea pressed her cunt deep and hard into the sob, moaning slightly as Lena finally obeyed from mechanical override alone.

Andrea turned her face back to the speaker. “Speaking of little alien refugees… should I assume yours is on this call too, Cat?”

“She’s listening. She’s… well.” There was an awkward, uncomfortable pause. “She’s a little tied up at the moment. But yes, she’s here,” Cat confirmed.

“Woof. Good luck with that when you get off the call.” Andrea laughed. “You must have really thought this conversation with me was going to go _very_ differently. Posturing aside, I can only apologise if I’ve thrown a spanner in the works.”

“I wouldn’t say a spanner. I’d say the whole damn toolbox,” Cat acquiesced, and suddenly the conversation wasn’t about politics at all anymore. “Then again a girl knows when to _shut up_ , put up, and grin and bear it if she wants to be first lady...” Cat snapped at someone in her physical presence who was apparently making quite the fuss too.

Lena understood the insinuation, and she realised her current predicament was a mutual one with Kara Danvers. Lena didn’t agree with Andrea’s tactics in the slightest, but there was something utterly thrilling and glittering about being on the winning team as far as competitive showboating went. 

Andrea became slick and hot against her chin, grinding and pressing her clit into her hung lips, into the little hot wet lapping tongue devouring her folds. She was achingly turned on and entirely disconnected from her baby girl. It only added to Lena’s pent up arousal and complicated feelings. 

When Andrea came, it was silent and tight, fingers wound into the spot where jet black hair met each temple. Her body curled forward, and then as quickly as it came she sighed and straightened back up again.

“You have no idea how much I empathise, Cat, really.” Andrea stared down wickedly at the whore between her thighs. “It’s not all red hot piss in your eyes. We disagree on the net neutrality issue but on just about everything else? We’re _very_ aligned.”

“For your sake I hope that is the case, Andrea. Otherwise you really won’t like me one little bit when it’s my finger on the nuclear button.”

“Well well, whose posturing for their little pet now?” Andrea’s voice wobbled as Lena sucked her sensitive clit. In turn, a sharp pull of the nipple clamps attached to Lena’s breasts sent a pained groan vibrating through her soft folds.

“From the moan I just detected in your voice? Likely still you.”

“That one wasn’t mine,” Andrea said plainly. “I would say something about hurrying this call but frankly… the problem I’m currently solving with my hands isn’t worth that kind of priority.”

“Perhaps we are very aligned after all.” A soft background whimper cried out from the speaker, one that absolutely did not belong to Cat Grant. “How close is that little problem of yours to being solved?”

Andrea slipped a hand down Lena’s belly, fingers slipping lower until she was rubbing her tiny sensitive clit. Lena bucked and whimpered, hips straining, chasing Daddy’s fingers for pressure until the slack rope tightened and stopped her.

“Close to resolution, and yours?”

“On the praecipe of quite the breakthrough.”

“I’ll let you occupy the rest of your flight time productively. You have my full support for the campaign, Cat. I’m glad we had this little talk.”

“Glad to hear it, Andrea.”

When the call ended, when the world’s vastness folded in on itself and became just four walls with the two of them inside, Lena felt as though she were in two states, both a concerned citizen and a woman on the brink, simultaneously. Kara Danvers was perhaps the only other soul in the world who could empathise, and Lena imagined she was having her own internal processes of reconciliation to contend with too.

“Oh don’t make that face,” Andrea crooned down and ran her nails through her jet black hair. “You can have my attention now, you’ve earned it, don’t spoil it for yourself little girl,” Andrea said over her shoulder as she walked back to the desk.

“That was _wrong_ , Andrea.” Lena glared. “That was… that was repulsive!”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Andrea grinned. “But you’re not saying red.”

Lena’s lips fidgeted. “If _ever_ the public found out…”

“And whose going to tell them, you?” Andrea scoffed. “Life is unfair, you either ride it or it rides you.” She pulled a loose strap-on harness from the desk drawer and slipped it up her legs.

Lena instantly lost her bottle.

“Oh, and Lena? If you use my name one more time I’m going to assume you want me to untie you so we can have an argument about this. There’s always time for arguments later if you want to get your guts rearranged instead of playing the fucking saviour for once in your life,” Andrea exhaled and tightened the straps on her soft thick hips, unbothered and unperturbed.

Their eyes finally met as Andrea walked back, locked and weighing the other up silently. Lena exhaled and felt stuck, wanting, craving, one foot in, one foot out. The clamps on her nipples throbbed, her slick hot cunt utterly begging her brain to just… stop thinking. Andrea growled and spat in her hand, coating the soft silicone shaft with a lazy pump. Lena’s mind became instantly settled.

“You won’t tell anyone?” Lena blushed.

“If ever I face an investigation committee, I’ll be sure to keep my pretty little girl’s name out of proceedings.” Andrea smirked. “Besides, you don’t really think that was anything other than a little posturing between two old friends do you? Honestly, it’s a wonder you haven’t ran L-Corp into the ground yet with your naivety.” Andrea mocked.

“Well maybe I’m not like you, maybe I’m not ruthless or cut-throat.”

“Of course you are.” Andrea laughed and untied the cow hitches that kept Lena’s ankles restrained. “We’re the same, you’re just ashamed of it.”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“You shouldn’t. Your shame is redundant, Lena. All of your conflicts, your guilt, your constant fucking embarrassment? It belongs to me now,” Andrea’s voice became honey-smooth and gentle. “Daddy’s got you, I’ll be the big bad monster and you can just be my soft, pretty, innocent girl.”

***

No matter how many times they fucked, whether it was loving or hateful, Lena would never get over the feeling of her conflictions ebbing away into a blissful state of nothing. Her world became simple and uncomplicated, Daddy was filling her holes, and that was all she ever needed to forgive whatever misdeed had occurred to get her to that mindless state of subspace.

In the executive chair behind the desk, Andrea fully committed and held Lena on top of her lap like a little pet to be cherished, arms wrapped around her belly protectively, hips thrusting slowly into her ass while obscene, whorish noises fell out of her mouth.

“Such a good girl,” Andrea kissed the back of her shoulderblade and gently fucked her ass. “You just relax and tell me what you need princess. You were such a good girl, you can have whatever your little heart wants.” She rewarded with another soft peck.

“You Daddy,” Lena exhaled instantly, whimpering with eyes half-lidded and far away. “Just you please, I just want my Daddy,” her voice cracked needily.

“Your Daddy, huh?” Andrea grinned, thrusting slowly until there were no more inches to give. “Say it again,” she murmured, throat husking.

“I just want _my_ Daddy—” Lena sounded so fragile and small the way she said it, Andrea thought with a smile. “I need my Daddy,” Lena choked and gripped Andrea’s forearms tight.

Andrea responded in kind and held her tight too, teeth resting into one spot of her shoulderblade while fingers dug into the sides of her ribs. She fucked her slowly; deep but never giving more than what Lena could take. A hostage, an onlooker, a toy, and now a little princess to be spoiled, Andrea had given her all and more. 

Lena would never know, of course, but the whole night had been feverishly planned. Cat had promised a favour in return for the campaign funding, and a glorious dressing down was what Andrea had decided to cash it in on. She knew, wholeheartedly, the villain routine did things for Lena. It was in her genetic code, after all.

Her fingers slipped over her ribs, down her belly, pushing further until she found the little swollen clit between her legs. With circles and strokes that had Lena’s spine slack and useless against her chest, Andrea took her to new breathtaking highs. 

“You’re such a good little girl,” Andrea huffed and growled, fucking her in one moment, clutching her tenderly in the next, smoothing and gathering her hair up into a manageable fistful. “I’m only mean when I know it’s exciting for you, I hope you know that pretty girl. You’ve got daddy wrapped around your pretty little finger…”

“A dangerous place to be,” Lena teased breathlessly, grinning and grinding her hips backwards.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Andrea grinned too. “I’m a bad woman, sure, but I have quite the track record of being good to you…”

“Does that mean I can cum?” Lena whispered, throat tight.

“Turn around so I can watch.”

Lena shifted and turned on Andrea’s hips, flush cheeked and puffing. She looked ruined and glittering, her eyes far away and her decolletage pink with blood that had rose to the surface. She was beautiful, and she was crying, but most of all, she was Andrea’s, and Andrea ranked it very highly on her list of accomplishments.

When Lena kissed her, she dove deep and grabbed both cheeks like she’d die without them. Andrea drew her tighter, cupped her slender shoulderblades and felt the whimpers and moans huff hot breath in her throat. Tongue swirling, lips wet with tears, the word _Daddy_ tumbled into Andrea’s mouth like a plea for mercy.

Andrea picked her up out of the chair on her hips, carrying and fucking her simultaneously. Lena lost her breath, clutching her shoulders hard and locking her ankles tight around the small of Andrea’s back.

“You can cum baby,” Andrea whispered into the prolonged kiss. “Chase it like you fucking mean it.”

The hot wet slickness coated Andrea’s mound from where the balled-up body in her arms grinded and pressed harder and harder. Andrea puffed for breath, glistening with sweat, unbothered about the soreness of her muscles. She fucked Lena furiously, carried and pounded her through the office like she was a problem to be solved with bare hands.

Lena came all at once and too quickly to give warning, and Andrea felt the desperation of her climax fill her lungs like a kiss of life. She fell backwards on the sofa with Lena piled in her arms, slack and curled over her like a roof that had caved in. She twitched, shuddered, cried and snatched her Daddy’s cheeks.

“Good girl,” Andrea kissed and didn’t let her up off her lap. “Do you have another in you baby?”

Lena nodded and whimpered.

“Don’t you worry,” Andrea chuckled and got her breath, and with one big push off her legs they were back up again. “Daddy will take care of that…”

[You haven't even seen my final form. Click HERE for more.](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


End file.
